


with music and lyrics by

by blackkat



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Disability, Genjutsu, Humor, Love/Hate, M/M, Stupid and Aggressive Flirting Tactics: an Uchiha Love Story, spite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23769145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: Izuna figures out a surefire way to torture Tobirama into insanity. There's no possible way it could backfire.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Izuna
Comments: 58
Kudos: 2065





	with music and lyrics by

Izuna figures it out by _accident_.

He isn't, technically, even supposed to be on this mission, because Madara is an overprotective bastard and Izuna is officially legally blind, reduced to dim shapes and hazy outlines in all but bright sunlight. Still, Hikaku is out with a broken ankle, Kasumi is recovering from her run-in with some of those Hyuuga bastards, and that leaves Izuna as the last member of his squad still standing, so when the mission comes in, he takes it.

It’s just his luck that apparently someone else hired the Senju for the same job.

Izuna can't see them; the bar is dark and shadowy, and even if it wasn’t, he has bandages wrapped around his face to hide his unmistakably Uchiha features. At this point in his life, though, he doesn’t _need_ to see Senju Tobirama to know it’s him. The sheer reek of _bastard_ would give him away no matter what.

The first clue is Tobirama’s voice, echoing across the noisy bar. Izuna's hearing is sharper these days, and he catches the edge of that unfortunately familiar tone and freezes, cup halfway to his lips.

“—can't believe you decided to take _this_ mission, of all the ones on the roster,” Tobirama is saying, petulant, and Izuna saw that ridiculous pout more than enough times to be able to picture it clearly. It’s an infuriating expression, even when it’s mostly in Izuna's imagination, and he _desperately_ wants to headbutt Tobirama in the _face_ to wipe it off his features. Or just plant a big fat wet kiss on his dumb mouth, for the sheer _horror_ Tobirama will feel. It would be a sacrifice, and Izuna would probably have to wash his mouth out with rubbing alcohol immediately afterwards, but— _worth it_.

“Shut up, Tobirama,” a woman says, droll. “You were getting on my nerves, skulking around your library like some kind of ghost. You made Hashirama _cry_.”

Tobirama huffs, and he and Tōka pass right behind Izuna's table. Izuna clamps down on his chakra desperately, hoping like hell that Tobirama saw him, decided he was a foreign shinobi, and decided not to look closer. Since he doesn’t currently have some sort of water dragon jutsu trying to shove itself up his ass, Izuna is going to assume that’s what happened.

“You make Hashirama cry at least once a week,” Tobirama retorts, pissy, and a chair scrapes like he just threw himself into it. “Why is it that when _I_ do it, it’s some unforgivable offense?”

“Your face right now is an unforgivable offense,” Tōka says dryly. Izuna approves, because Tobirama’s face is the _most_ offensive thing he’s ever seen, and he will never waver from that opinion. “Stop pouting. I don’t care, and it’s not going to get you out of this.”

“A blind Uchiha could do this mission, it hardly requires _two_ Senju,” Tobirama says arrogantly, and Izuna has to grit his teeth and remind himself that trying to shove a fireball down the bastard’s throat will definitely blow his cover, and his clan needs the money.

“Then make like a blind Uchiha and _do your job_ ,” Tōka says pointedly. “I'm missing out on a date with Mito for this.”

Tobirama harrumphs, and his chair squeaks as he sinks lower in it. “This music is _awful_ ,” he complains. “I loathe it.”

“It’s romantic, shut your mouth.” Tōka hums a bar of the popular love ballad the musician at the back is playing, and Tobirama groans loudly.

“It is _despicable_ ,” he says. “Disgusting. I'm going to drive a kunai into my ear.”

Tōka’s sigh is massively put-upon. “Someday,” she says, “you're going to have to get over this irrational hatred of romantic music.”

“I would rather carve out my brain with a spoon,” Tobirama says darkly, and Izuna freezes, eyes widening in sudden, spectacular realization.

_Oh_ , he thinks, suddenly and abruptly delighted. This is a _weakness_. Tobirama just showed Izuna a chink in his armor, a gap in his defenses. The realization feels like clouds opening up, sunlight streaming down. Izuna can _use_ this. Tobirama just unknowingly showed Izuna his belly, and there’s no way Izuna _won't_ take advantage. Maybe it’s not the weakness Izuna would have preferred, but that doesn’t mean anything.

After all, Izuna is a master at genjutsu, one of the best in his clan. The fact that he’s blind doesn’t change that; if anything, it will make this even easier, because where Izuna has been trying to rely on the memory of sight, now he doesn’t have to. Visible genjutsus aren’t the only type, even if they are the most common.

And, of course, there's the added advantage of the fact that even if Tobirama _does_ realize what’s happening with his stupid sensor ability, he still won't be able to see through it, because there won't be anything to actually _see_. He’ll just think he’s going crazy.

The evil cackles want to come out—it’s a genetic urge, with the Uchiha—but Izuna contains them. Breathes through the impulse, restrains himself to a pleased snicker or two, and toasts his own genius and the twist of fate that led him to this realization, perfectly pleased with everything.

If romantic music is Tobirama’s weakness, Izuna will see to it that it’s his _downfall_.

The first chance he gets to try his new method at taking Tobirama down comes barely a week later, and Izuna is _thrilled_. Not so much with the way the Senju decide to butt in on the Uchiha Clan’s attempt to extract a toll from the forest road that marks the current border between their lands, but more with the fact that Tobirama is the one who comes leading the charge, furious and artic as he throws himself in front of Izuna. Botan, one of their main squad leaders, immediately starts harrying the trio of merchants out of the way, while the rest of the Senju spread out to block the Uchiha on their path forward.

“Senju bastard,” Izuna greets darkly, just able to make out a blur of white and blue in the shadow of the trees. It offends him _deeply_ , sometimes, that Tobirama is still one of the clearest things he can see, just going by the color of his hair and armor.

“Uchiha dog,” Tobirama returns, chilly, and Izuna scowls, bringing his hands up. He sees the jerk of Tobirama’s head-shape, and maybe some part of him is still pleased that Tobirama thinks him dangerous enough that he slams his eyes closed and wrenches back, even when Izuna is mostly blind, but he shoves it down and activates the genjutsu with a snap of chakra. Let Tobirama think he missed; Izuna will prove him wrong soon enough.

“If the Uchiha Clan was this desperate for money, Izuna,” Tobirama says, that particular bratty tone that always makes Izuna want to _do violence to his person_ , or maybe find whole new ways to leave him breathless and unable to speak, “you could just have Madara charge for the time he spends alone with my brother.”

…Yeah, never mind about waiting for the jutsu. Izuna is going to murder Tobirama with his bare hands.

“ _What_?” he snarls, and draws his sword. “My brother is the head of the Uchiha Clan, not some _prostitute_!”

Tobirama scoffs. “I wouldn’t ever lump him in with members of such a valuable profession,” he retorts. “But charging for time is what the Uchiha do for missions, isn't it? How else would your prices be so inflated?”

Izuna _growls_ , launching himself forward towards the Tobirama-shaped blur. The flash of a sword rises to meet him, but Izuna goes low, kicks Tobirama’s feet out from under him, and slams him down into the dirt before he can manage to slip out of it like the snake he is.

Then, spitefully, he shoves more chakra into the genjutsu just as Tobirama opens his eyes.

It’s an illusion Izuna has spent the last week tailoring in exhaustive detail, working on day and night now that he finally has a _way_. He’s tapped into it as well, since it’s not traumatizing for _him_ , so he can hear the instant swell of a romantic ballad just as the red smudge of Tobirama’s eyes comes visible.

Under Izuna, Tobirama freezes stock-still, staring.

Izuna's trying to play it down, trying not to give it away, but he physically can't resist a smirk as he leans over Tobirama, the blade of his sword at his throat. “What’s the matter, Senju?” he mocks. “You usually put up more of a fight than this.”

There's a splutter, a heave that’s too sudden even for Uchiha reflexes. Izuna goes flying over his head and lands face-first in a sticker bush, then has to claw his way out of it before Tobirama can actually literally kick his ass, but—

Worth it. Tobirama twitches noticeably every time Izuna touches him and the music rises dramatically, and that’s _worth it_.

It’s not exactly fair to say that Izuna takes up stalking in the aftermath of his first success, but, well—

Izuna takes up stalking in the aftermath of his first success, and he doesn’t regret it _at all_.

It’s kind of ridiculously easy, too. Uchiha and Senju lands have always shared a border, and there's a civilian town that’s more or less neutral ground that falls right along the line of it. Even more than that is the fact that Tobirama is always active, patrolling or escorting squads to Tanzaku-Gai or just practicing down by the river, so it’s easy for Izuna to make himself seen, even without picking a fight.

It’s almost _better_ when he doesn’t pick a fight, as sacrilegious as it feels to think that. Izuna wanders through the trees, trying his best to look blind and unassuming, and every time Tobirama’s eyes land on him he can hear the music swell. Can hear, distinct and heartwarming, the way Tobirama yowls like an offended cat, the first time it happens, and the splash that follows as he trips into the river and rises a spluttering, offended mess.

After that, there's no question that Izuna is going to _continue_. This is absolutely the best idea he’s ever had, and he’s enjoying it obscenely.

“What did you _do_?” Madara hisses in his ear like an offended snake, bristling with indignation but also protectiveness, given the way Tobirama is staring daggers across the table.

Izuna normally hates these kinds of missions, where idiots who have no idea as to the politics of the shinobi clans in the area hire both the Uchiha and the Senju for a mission, but today—today it’s an _opportunity_. He smirks, waggling his fingers at Tobirama just because it makes him turn red with suppressed rage, and says, “Absolutely nothing, why would you think I did anything?”

Madara gives him an incredulous look. “Because you're _happy_ ,” he says waspishly, “and normally you're only happy when you're torturing someone.”

“I'm torturing Tobirama with my presence,” Izuna says, and it’s even the truth. The romantic strains of a particularly twangy ballad start, and Tobirama twitches visibly, closing his eyes. Izuna's pretty sure he can see a vein twitch in his temple.

Stabbing Tobirama is one thing, and Izuna intends to do just that at the first available opportunity. Stab and _gut_ , because Tobirama’s too dangerous an opponent to be left alive.

However, he’s also an asshole, and Izuna is more than willing to inflict everything he hates on him in the meantime.

Madara squints at him. He’s losing his eyesight, too, if less quickly than Izuna; one of the few, scattered benefits of fighting a man like Hashirama, whose jutsus _can't_ be copied, and who has enough chakra that he’s practically immune to all genjutsus, Izuna thinks, with more relief than bitterness. He hardly _minds_ that his older brother still has his sight.

“You can't even _see_ him,” Madara says warily.

“No,” Izuna agrees, and it’s a tragedy he regrets every moment of this plot. “But I'm _imagining_ his tortured face.”

Madara snorts. “You're likely not far off,” he says critically, and turns away when Kasumi asks him something quietly.

With his brother’s attention diverted, Izuna lets his smirk slide back onto his face, glancing over at Tobirama again. Sees a vague twitch, just as the romantic strings hit a particularly high pitch, and asks pointedly, pitched to carry, “Something wrong, Senju? You’ve been twitchy every time I've seen you lately.”

There's a low growl. “If you don’t stop wandering around near the river when I take my shirt off,” Tobirama says snottily, “I'm going to get the wrong impression, Uchiha.”

Madara would splutter. Izuna just rolls his eyes, then waves a hand at his face. “It’s not like it would benefit me any, Senju,” he retorts. “Even if I _did_ want to see you with your shirt off. Now, if you want to grovel and beg, _that_ I’ll be able to see—”

“Be grateful,” Tobirama growls, “that this is a meeting under truce, or I would not hesitate to—”

“ _Brother_ ,” Hashirama says, exasperated, because like Madara he seems to have a sixth sense for when his little brother is about to do something ill-advised.

Tobirama scowls but snaps his mouth shut.

Vindictively, Izuna adds a woman’s mournful, desperately besotted cries about true love to the melody, and even he can see the way Tobirama’s shoulders rise sharply, like he just got smacked on the ass.

“Truce,” Izuna repeats. “Only until the mission is over, though.”

“I'm counting on it,” Tobirama says darkly, and looks away.

The fact that Tobirama dislikes him wandering past when he’s apparently shirtless is enough to make Izuna want to do it as often as possible, because whatever Tobirama hates Izuna is all for, so he makes a point to be around the river whenever missions allow for the next few weeks.

Tragically, all the effort Izuna puts into dodging Madara and slipping out of the compound seems to be for nothing at first; there’s no trace of the Senju Clan’s greatest bastard to be found anywhere, even in the places where he usually trains. When Izuna subtly inquires as to whether Hikaku has seen him on any of his border patrols—well, _he_ thinks it’s subtle, even if Hikaku rolls his eyes at him and mutters something about idiots and obsessions—Hikaku confirms that there’s been a decided lack of Tobirama anywhere outside the innermost Senju lands.

It’s not that unusual. Tobirama has a habit of getting caught up in researching stupid things, or going on inventing sprees and vanishing for a month, only to drag himself out to a battlefield looking like something someone dug out of a shallow grave in the middle of winter. _Sense_ is not something the Senju seem to have in any sort of quantity, and Tobirama got even less than most of them.

Still, it’s mildly frustrating, because Izuna has a new toy and he wants to play with it, and if Tobirama’s sanity is the thing on the chopping block, all the better. He entertains himself largely by wandering the edge of the river like a mostly-blind ghost, carefully tweaking the genjutsu to play different songs, triggering it randomly, and wonders if it’s been long enough that Tobirama now automatically associates terrible romantic songs with seeing Izuna. Izuna kind of hopes he does; after all, anything that can make Tobirama loathe him more is wonderful, in Izuna's book.

It does get kind of boring, though. Izuna has no missions, no battles to fight. Madara has been sneaking out to see Hashirama again, he’s sure of it, and that’s frustrating for a whole new tangle of reasons that start with _Senju bastards_ and end with _inevitable treachery_ , but—

Well. Izuna's a blind Uchiha who can't even guard his brother anymore, because Madara is an overprotective bastard. It makes Izuna effectively useless, and he wants to kill things just to ease a little of the burning rage of knowing that.

And then, one morning when the sun is just coming up, and the dew is still chilly on Izuna's feet as he picks his way along the familiar path beside the Nakano, he hears a splash.

It’s not a fish-splash, and it’s not even just a human-splash. Quieter than most people, at a time and temperature when no one sane would be swimming, and—that means there's only one person it could be.

Izuna checks that his sword is loose in its sheath, slides a senbon up his sleeve, and steps out of the trees, picking his way down to the water’s edge. With the sun low in the sky, it’s hard to make out more than blurry dark shapes, but Tobirama is a pale relief against the dimness, obvious as he cuts through the featureless water, and for a moment Izuna scowls down at him, trying to fill in the outlines with images from his memory. He thinks Tobirama’s hair might be longer, but it’s hard to tell.

Spitefully, annoyed at the whole world, he makes sure it’s a particularly obnoxious wail of lovelorn grief that starts up right as Tobirama breaks the surface of the water.

There's a low, furious growl, and instantly Tobirama is rising, hauling himself out of the water in a blur of bare skin and red tattoos to face Izuna down. He isn't armed, but—well. Even Izuna isn't about to consider Senju Tobirama vulnerable with a whole river right behind him.

“Uchiha,” he growls. “This is Senju territory. Remove yourself, or I will remove you.”

Izuna adds a melancholy chorus to the genjutsu, just because he can, and watches Tobirama twitch with smug satisfaction. “Oh?” he asks, all bright, innocent surprise. “Did I cross the border? I couldn’t tell. You know, being _blind_.”

Tobirama snorts. “You know precisely where you are,” he says crisply. “Being blind makes you no less dangerous, Izuna.”

Izuna _refuses_ to let the turn of warmth in his chest show in his face, but—well. It’s _still_ nice to have the second most powerful shinobi in the Senju Clan think of him as a worthy opponent, even with the loss of his eyesight. Madara's been particularly overbearing recently, and it’s just—reassuring, in a twisted way, to know that Tobirama at least won't hesitate to try just as hard to kill him as before.

“It means I don’t have to look at your face anymore, at least,” he says, smirking, and rests a hand on the hilt of his sword. The way Tobirama tenses is gratifying. “Not that you’ve inflicted it on me recently, Tobirama. Thanks for that.”

There's a long, almost startling moment of silence where Izuna was expecting a retort. And then, quiet, Tobirama says, “Our brothers are meeting again.”

Izuna blinks, not expecting the change of subject. “They have been since that time you almost killed me,” he points out, and—that wasn’t his best showing, but Tobirama’s idiotic space-time ninjutsu isn't something anyone could be prepared for, and Madara hadn’t paid any attention to Izuna's pleas not to trust Hashirama to heal him, but Hashirama also hadn’t stabbed him in the back, so Izuna's willing to call it an overall neutral outcome.

Tobirama scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. The bright red smudges of his tattoos curl around his arms, go all the way down his chest to wrap around his thighs, and Izuna isn't _looking_ , but it’s hard not to notice when it’s the only really clear thing he can see. “They’ve been discussing their village again,” he says pointedly, and Izuna grimaces.

This time, with both of them being clan heads, there's no way they can be deterred by a few sharp words from their fathers. This is going to be a _headache_.

“Us killing each other would put a stop to it,” he suggests, without much hope. It probably wouldn’t, knowing how devoted the two idiots are. Hashirama already ended his engagement to Uzumaki Mito because it made Madara _sad_. Even if he and Tobirama could make some sort of joint murder pact, it likely would just make Hashirama and Madara bond even more, which is a mildly horrifying thought.

Tobirama snorts, derisive, and takes a step closer. Izuna kind of regrets that he can't pick out any details, because that’s a hell of a lot of bare skin, and there's what looks like a string of seals inked down across the outside of Tobirama’s thigh that could be a threat. “I'm not going to kill you,” he says deliberately. “No matter how annoying your jutsus are.”

_Shit_ , Izuna thinks, but his expression manages to be perfectly innocent as he cocks his head. “Jutsus?” he asks, all faux confusion. “What are you—”

Too fast to react to, there’s a hand in the collar of his yukata, hauling him up and in until his nose is only a centimeter from Tobirama’s. “The _music_ ,” Tobirama says pointedly. “If you want to play me love songs, Izuna, learn an instrument.”

And then he kisses Izuna, because he’s a _bastard_ , and Izuna—

Izuna kisses back, because he’s a bastard too, and it puts him close enough to pinch Tobirama’s ass and bite at his mouth without having to worry about the logistics of getting through Tobirama’s guard.

That’s totally his reason for going along with it. It’s _tactical_.

Just because, he lets the music shift into something cloyingly romantic, and when Tobirama groans, aggravated, Izuna laughs at him and pushes him into the river.


End file.
